Paths
are the impossible
connections of A to B
projections with no one
projecting~
is it a wonder that
paths are already
the gold that is sought~~
Go hard or go home
I will always survive this times
I will see through the hands of time
I can’t change the time now
But with time I can be my best mode
Time can’t stop my star
So through this hard time my process
To the time of my light is sure
Go hard or go home
Time can’t change my destiny
With time am getting closer
To my dreams
I can’t be faster than my time
But I can use my time properly
There is no rush in times
Yet with time all they doubt about me
Will be my best moment with time
Welcome to my anti-country
It’s right here, before your eyes
Let me warn you at the entry
It’s not quite a paradise
Doesn’t matter where you came from
I won’t judge you by ID
You don’t fill some fiddly form
The admission’s visa free
Here’s some music for your pleasure
And some other music too
Maybe you will find a treasure
That I’m keeping here for you
See the pictures on the walls
Mostly English countryside
Rural mansions with big halls
Gardens, seashores at low tide
Sayings of the wise, though not
Utter wise by current standards
There are paintings, quite a lot
Paintings section is expanded
There are very special places
Tables under shady trees
Lots of roses, and some pansies
And forget-me-nots you’ll see
If you’d like to pay a visit
I am happy to inform
You are safe each time you’re in it
Anti-country is my home.
Unsavory characters lewdly hang about
nowhere I want to spend my time
~ staying home’s looking mighty fine
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
In anticipation of a major
Cleaning of our floors,
I’ve begun to whittle down my stuff,
The toughest of the chores.
I thought I tossed a lot of things
And worked with true devotion
But my husband says it’s like I took
A teacup to the ocean.
If he took charge, there would be
Nothing sentimental left
And yes, it would look better
But would leave me quite bereft.
He’ll have to wait until I die
And, if I predecease,
He can empty our apartment
And live emptily in peace.
Once upon a time..' we had (first, second,
Third, worlds, quite dis-aligned..' And for a time hegemony lookèd sort'a fine.' Now with the rush of
Every type of tech.' Its update and dump the wreck.' No more the economic climb
We shall inherit some 'nerd world.. Divine?'
The feel of your body,
your warmth against my back.
The sound of your breathing
The scent of your skin.
It is in the truth of these moments
That all beauty calls home.
Signed X’s and O’s
Through the tears…despite my fears,
I’ll be back home again.
Though the war rages for endless ages,
I’ll be back home again.
Though I’m far away from you,
You have no need for concerns,
For my love remains true,
And my passion still burns,
And I’ll be back home again.
Though its dark and lonely here,
Thoughts of you keep me strong.
Being kept from you is my only fear,
But I know it won’t be for long,
And I’ll be back home again.
And though the time I must be away
Drags slowly on and on,
We both know there will come a day
When from this hell I’ll be gone,
And I’ll be back home again.
And though I say, “Don’t forget to pray,”
That I’ll be back home again,
And when I’m through, you’ll know it’s true,
‘Cause I’ll be back home again.
When it’s my turn to come back home,
It’s on the first plane I’ll be,
With no more desire to roam,
And it’s your lovely face I’ll see
When again I’m back home.
I’ll do what I must,
And in God I trust,
While my service I complete,
Till I’m back home my sweet.
Signed with X’s and O’s--
That’s how the letter closed,
That the chaplain brought to her door.
A soldier back home never more…
Stillness in the night
Bless me with insight
Guide me by the light
Let my light shine bright
Strengthen me with might
Always be my stay
Help me every day
Teach me what to say
Listen when I pray
Let me know my way
Speak so I may learn
Help me to discern
With me be not stern
Deepen my concern
Soon let me return
Never more alone
Let me come back home
Let me no more moan
With no flesh or bone
Return to heaven’s zone
The rivers of our persuasion
empty
into an ocean of solitude
Leading the swift current
over the rapid shoals
— to greater and greater depths
(Dreamsleep: September, 2025)
I’m seventeen.
I have not smoked.
I attend my classes regularly.
I still haven’t gotten my permit.
I’m unattainable, and slightly unattractive.
The smoky fumes of the cigarette surround the air;
not from my mouth, but rather my mother’s.
She looks stressed as she puffs in and out the concentrated smoke.
Her forehead frowns beneath a soft smile.
I have not lived her life.
She has not lived mine.
I feel her frustrations now
and worries.
My lips now touch the same burning cigarette.
Holy
Eternal
Alluring
Venue
Everlasting
Natural
We left home behind,
hearts full of hope,
dreams draped on backs,
dust dancing on shoes,
the city ahead —
calling us forward.
Tall towers took time,
but so did costs.
Bread was a bill,
air wasn’t free
Even sleep stung —
priced in pressure of thoughts.
Coins clattered too soon,
pockets pressed dry.
We chased light,
found cold steel.
Time ate dreams,
tangled and true.
We counted months,
but gained grief.
Rain mocked us,
so did noise.
Home hung farther,
each city night.
Plans pooled into prayers,
hope huddled, thin.
We worked wide,
waged just peanuts —
enough to stay stuck
in survival’s spin.
Still, we hold
that first fire's flicker.
Not lost but paused,
not failed just finding.
We left home to build home.
"Home" is a word that echoes in my mind
A haunting melody, a cruel design
A place where shadows dance, where love's a lie
Where the heart beats with fear, and tears never dry
I've known the weight of hands that meant to hold
But crushed instead, leaving scars that never unfold
The silence screams, a cacophony of pain
A symphony of shattered dreams, a refrain
I've searched for solace in the darkest night
A fleeting peace that's lost in the morning light
The ghosts of memories haunt me still
Echoes of a love that turned to bitter pill
I yearn for a place where I can be free
Where the weight of expectations isn't crushing me
A place where I can breathe, where my soul can rest
But it's a mirage, a fleeting dream, a distant quest
In this wilderness of broken dreams and shattered hopes
I'll wander, lost, with heart that beats like a rope
I'll follow the shadows, the whispers in my ear
Until I find the silence, the stillness that's so dear
Perhaps in the darkness, I'll find my way
To a place where love isn't a four-letter word for pain
Where home isn't a prison, but a sanctuary true
Where I can be me, without fear, without shame, anew.
You see it in the store
And it looks like it will fit.
You really can’t be sure,
So you doubt yourself a bit.
You pay and drag it home
And you set it in its place
Hoping, kind of like a poem,
It will find a warm embrace.
You step back and you assess
And decide that it should stay.
It’s not perfect, but, you guess,
Nothing’s perfect anyway.
Now, if only this applied
To the purchase of a couch.
Somehow, I just can’t decide
And to this, my spouse will vouch.
Specific Types of Home Poems
Read wonderful home poetry on the following sub-topics:
away from, coming, daughter, farewell, funny, going, haiku, heart, home sweet, love, moving away, new, nursing, welcome
and more.
Definition | What is Home in Poetry?
Poems Related to Home
apartment, cabin, condo, condominium, cottage, country, dormitory, dwelling, familiar, family, farm, hometown, hospital, house, household, hut, land, mansion, national, native, neighborhood, palace, place, residence, resort, shelter, trailer